snow—that had been his way of getting away from himself. In a new place, hundreds of miles from Halfway, he had thought he would be a new man—confident and free from the Ordnung, the rules that dictated everything from what a man could wear to when he could marry. But as the years wore on, he began to see that he could never get away from himself.
Why had he stayed out so long among the Englishers? He wasn’t so sure. There was some
Hochmut
—pride—that had kept him from admitting to himself that he had made a mistake in leaving.
And what had drawn him away in the first place?
Cars.
The answer still brought a hot flush of shame to his cheeks when he thought about it. He had told his parents that he wasn’t ready to join the church just yet, and they had let him go with a sad nod. Hedid not mention his fascination with cars and trucks and engines, but they had to know. After all, he had left behind a broken-down Jeep that he’d spent hours tinkering with during his early rumspringa. There was something about driving a vehicle, being in control of a loud, powerful engine, that had held Zed in awe. Driving made him a man, or so he thought.
With the help of a Mennonite cousin who gave him a place to stay, he had gotten his license and a good job as a truck driver. He made enough money to pay for what he needed—at least until he’d met Jessica. An Englisher, Jessica described herself as a plain country girl, but she was far from plain. She was always shopping at malls or paging through magazines, trying to find the shoes or lip color that would make her feel good about herself. Zed used to ask her why she didn’t feel good as she was, but her response was always a little smile and a nudge on the shoulder.
In the years that he courted her, she began to buy clothes for him, too. Blue jeans and striped shirts. Expensive leather shoes. But Zed had no interest in the clothes. Broadcloth pants and a simple shirt suited him just fine. Too bad it took him so long to find that out. That was when he realized that he would never fit in with Englishers. He didn’t talk or think like them. He would never belong there.
It had been a long, hard lesson. He immediately saw that Jessica bought clothes and jewelry to fill the hole in her heart. It took him longer to realize that he was doing the same thing with his interest in cars and trucks.
After he had returned to Halfway, Zed had tried to hire on with an Amish contractor. Although there would be no more truck-driving for him, he was good with his hands, a capable carpenter. But no one would hire him. Some Amish folks had been so cold, you would have thought he was under the
Bann
. People knew he had turned away for a long time; they weren’t so quick to welcome him back with open arms, that much was clear. He knew he wouldhave to prove himself to them, show them that he was here to stay, that he wanted to be a part of the community.
For now, he would have to work without pay. Amish charity. He didn’t mind that so much, and he was glad to help the Lapps, his family.
Sometimes Zed still found it hard to believe Thomas Lapp was gone. When Zed had returned to Halfway, Tom Lapp was one of the few men who would look him in the eye and give him work. Tom and Fanny had been close to Zed’s parents, Rose and Ira. And somehow, Gott had seen fit to put Zed in the van with Elsie and Tom Lapp on that terrible night last winter. From that day on, Zed and his parents had kept a close watch on Tom’s family, vowing to step in if they ever needed a helping hand. Zed figured it was the least he could do for Tom’s widow.
With the chairs fixed, Zed closed up his toolbox and walked past the hedge, where sparrows darted in and out. Bees bounced along the honeysuckle, and the warm breeze brought the scent of cut grass. This was one of the things he had missed, trapped in the cab of his truck: the sight and smell of the land. The simplicity of a wooden fence built to keep
Why had he stayed out so long among the Englishers? He wasn’t so sure. There was some
Hochmut
—pride—that had kept him from admitting to himself that he had made a mistake in leaving.
And what had drawn him away in the first place?
Cars.
The answer still brought a hot flush of shame to his cheeks when he thought about it. He had told his parents that he wasn’t ready to join the church just yet, and they had let him go with a sad nod. Hedid not mention his fascination with cars and trucks and engines, but they had to know. After all, he had left behind a broken-down Jeep that he’d spent hours tinkering with during his early rumspringa. There was something about driving a vehicle, being in control of a loud, powerful engine, that had held Zed in awe. Driving made him a man, or so he thought.
With the help of a Mennonite cousin who gave him a place to stay, he had gotten his license and a good job as a truck driver. He made enough money to pay for what he needed—at least until he’d met Jessica. An Englisher, Jessica described herself as a plain country girl, but she was far from plain. She was always shopping at malls or paging through magazines, trying to find the shoes or lip color that would make her feel good about herself. Zed used to ask her why she didn’t feel good as she was, but her response was always a little smile and a nudge on the shoulder.
In the years that he courted her, she began to buy clothes for him, too. Blue jeans and striped shirts. Expensive leather shoes. But Zed had no interest in the clothes. Broadcloth pants and a simple shirt suited him just fine. Too bad it took him so long to find that out. That was when he realized that he would never fit in with Englishers. He didn’t talk or think like them. He would never belong there.
It had been a long, hard lesson. He immediately saw that Jessica bought clothes and jewelry to fill the hole in her heart. It took him longer to realize that he was doing the same thing with his interest in cars and trucks.
After he had returned to Halfway, Zed had tried to hire on with an Amish contractor. Although there would be no more truck-driving for him, he was good with his hands, a capable carpenter. But no one would hire him. Some Amish folks had been so cold, you would have thought he was under the
Bann
. People knew he had turned away for a long time; they weren’t so quick to welcome him back with open arms, that much was clear. He knew he wouldhave to prove himself to them, show them that he was here to stay, that he wanted to be a part of the community.
For now, he would have to work without pay. Amish charity. He didn’t mind that so much, and he was glad to help the Lapps, his family.
Sometimes Zed still found it hard to believe Thomas Lapp was gone. When Zed had returned to Halfway, Tom Lapp was one of the few men who would look him in the eye and give him work. Tom and Fanny had been close to Zed’s parents, Rose and Ira. And somehow, Gott had seen fit to put Zed in the van with Elsie and Tom Lapp on that terrible night last winter. From that day on, Zed and his parents had kept a close watch on Tom’s family, vowing to step in if they ever needed a helping hand. Zed figured it was the least he could do for Tom’s widow.
With the chairs fixed, Zed closed up his toolbox and walked past the hedge, where sparrows darted in and out. Bees bounced along the honeysuckle, and the warm breeze brought the scent of cut grass. This was one of the things he had missed, trapped in the cab of his truck: the sight and smell of the land. The simplicity of a wooden fence built to keep
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